“The performance metrics?” Hayes asked.

“No,” I said, my fingers shaking slightly as I highlighted a block of encrypted coordinates. “Something much worse.”

The data stream showed a series of high-latitude navigation vectors.

These were the precise, pre-programmed paths the submarine would take to evade detection in the North Atlantic.

“They are stealing the dive coordinates,” I said.

“That’s impossible,” Turner said. “Those are stored on a closed-loop system.”

“The transmitter created a bridge,” I said, my voice cold. “And it’s siphoning them right now.”

I watched the percentage indicator climb to forty percent.

“Who is receiving the data?” Hayes asked, his hand tightening on his weapon.

“I’m tracing the IP routing,” I said.

I initiated a trace route tool, watching the digital map expand beyond the borders of the naval base.

The signal bounced from the internal dry dock transmitter to an antenna on the roof of the warehouse.

From there, it didn’t go to a local cell tower.

“It’s a point-to-point microwave link,” I said.

“Directed where?” Hayes asked.

I watched the blue line stretch out across the digital map of the Thames River.